Human Avatars

Tag: #shortstory

  • 🤝 The Bench Between Worlds

    🤝 The Bench Between Worlds

    An unlikely friendship forms where nobody planned to stay No one goes to Greyhound Station to make friends. You go there because something didn’t work out. A job dried up. A relationship collapsed. A plan evaporated. The place smells like burnt coffee and old vinyl seats. Time drags its feet there. Clocks feel decorative, not…

  • 🎲 The Day the Numbers Lined Up

    🎲 The Day the Numbers Lined Up

    A story about a coincidence so strange it refuses to stay quiet Some coincidences tap you on the shoulder.This one grabbed me by the collar and shook. It started on a Tuesday, which already felt suspicious. Tuesdays pretend to be harmless. No expectations. No drama. Just coffee, errands, background noise. The kind of day that…

  • ⏰ The Sound of Footsteps Running

    A story about time slipping through open hands The church bells started ringing before the sun had fully decided where to land. They rang with that old-town confidence, the kind that assumed everyone else was ready, shoes polished, hair behaving, plans behaving too. I stood in the doorway with one sock on, one sock missing,…

  • 🧭 The Road That Refused to Behave

    Setting out with a map and a plan, and discovering the map had other ideas Miles had always trusted directions. Not blindly, not with starry-eyed optimism, but with the quiet faith of someone who believed that if you followed the signs, stayed between the lines, and kept your tank full, things would mostly work out.…

  • 🌙 The Wake-Up That Wouldn’t Let Go

    When reality blinks first, the dream keeps watching I wake up to the sound of a train horn that doesn’t belong to my street. It echoes through the bedroom like a long, wounded animal, low and aching, vibrating the picture frames. My heart slams. I don’t live near tracks. I never have. I sit upright,…

  • 🌒 The Night Before the Applause

    When quitting feels logical and hope feels reckless I was five minutes away from deleting the email folder. Not archiving it. Not marking it unread. Deleting. The nuclear option. Years of unanswered pitches, polite rejections, radio silence dressed up as “we’ll keep you in mind.” I hovered over the cursor like it might confess something…

  • The Sound Between Doors 🎧

    A single sentence, overheard by accident, rewrites a life already in motion The hallway outside Apartment 3B always smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and old carpet. It was the kind of smell that suggested effort without success. Mara had walked that hallway hundreds of times without noticing it. Today, she noticed everything. She was late.…